


the first verse same as the winter

by sazzafraz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Rule 63, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sazzafraz/pseuds/sazzafraz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles’ mother tells her this with her dying breath. 'Some of us are made to die for others. Winter will come for you.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	the first verse same as the winter

**Author's Note:**

> This is not what I should be doing right now.
> 
> Fucking werewolves.

**I**

Stiles’ mother tells her this with her dying breath.

_Some of us are made to die for others. Winter will come for you._

**II**

Dereka meets Scott meets Stiles meets the first punch of heat to her toes since the fire burnt her away. Scott is the earth and death and life made new like her family after moon nights. Stiles is summer and spring and autumn, all the warmth of the year punched and stuffed into a pair of bright eyes. There’s something stirring in the pit of her stomach; hunger or patience or the claws of inevitability.   

**III**

Years pass and pass and pass. Stiles learns the way Dereka feels under her fingers. Dereka does her best to catch her and eat her alive. Neither wins. Stiles never stays on the nights the winter moon is fullest. Tucks herself away in bed, Dereka thinks, and she is almost wrong. The pack grows and ebbs away Stiles and Scott are the only constants. The hum of hunting and keeping lets Dereka let go just so long as she can see them in the distance.  

**IV**

Dereka catches Stiles, eventually.

**V**

Summer turns brittle against her skin. There’s knowing the cold will come and then there’s feeling it trip up her hair and close lips over her ear. She knows the cold is coming and that she’s nearly out of time. The cold will close over her feet and drag her under. She stays in a bed of turning leaves with Dereka. Stays in a warm bed with lazy breaths. Stays human and whole until the first day of winter claws the ground for her.

**VI**

All gods are gods of war and it follows that all warriors must be made of war too.

Stiles wears her armour tucked underneath her skin. Wears it when she lies in her shallow grave and waits for the keeper of death to choose to keep or kill. She wakes again with dirt and silver in her mouth, not today it seems, she’ll have more time to grow her armour, grow her warmth for the dark times ahead.

**VII**

The thing is, though, Stiles forgets sometimes. The time between visits to what lies under grows longer and longer, the shared memory of all the women who came before twists and tumbles and she _forgets._ All gods are war gods are old vengeance to fear and Stiles has her hands in the present. Dereka still tastes like the moon and clean water. The world is still bright and hot. The world still grows beneath her feet. She forgets.

**VIII**

Winter becomes unkind.

Stiles goes to the ground.

**IX**

Stiles drifts away as the winter gets longer and longer. The snow comes and stays for a week and then for a month and then for another. She sees Stiles occasionally and the summer and spring of her is gone. She is bones and paled out skin. The winter lessens and breaks and Stiles returns with a swirl of silver on her tongue. Dereka tries to ask but Stiles cries and hushes her. Offers pomegranates. Offers sorrow.

**X**

_Some are made to die for others._ Stiles says again and again, _the winter will come for me._

**XI**

All gods are gods of war. A new pack comes stronger and faster than any before. Dereka calls on her patron gods, the old ones, finds comfort in their destruction. She finds a deer in the woods and a wolf curled next to it. Finds silver in their mouths. Every bowl of water becomes a reflection of things to come and things long since past. Women laid alive and warm in the ground. Women gifted to death with a neat bow. The water whispers and swallows Dereka’s tears when girl after girl is laid down.

_The winter will come._

**XII**

Dereka tries to stand vigil when the frost begins creeping after Stiles, hunting her around corners and under covers. Stiles sighs warmly and tells her it’s useless. Some sacrifices are necessary. Dereka watches the water while the last pile of dirt covers her eyes and the warmth bleeds into the ground. Winter comes and stays.

**XIII**

The goddess of hunters and virgins left Dereka when she was 15 and crazy for a woman with war in her. The goddess of magic and crossroads helps her now.

**XIV**

_Do not turn back for a moment,_ is all Dereka thinks when she’s defeated the guardians and the gate keepers and dragged Stiles back to her, _look back and you’ve lost._

Dereka looks forward; to escape, to spring, to the way Stiles looks in turning leaves.

**XV**

Stiles wakes with warmth flushed all over her. It is Spring. It is Summer. It is Fall. It will never be Winter for her again.   

 

**Author's Note:**

> Does any one have a name for rule63!Derek that isn't Dereka? Because that is a terrible name.


End file.
